


It's a bittersweet ending (if you know what I mean)

by relenafanel



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Artist Steve Rogers, M/M, and Steve loves watching Bucky walk away in them, gratuitous mention of Hot Topic skinny jeans, sales associates in love, they work in a mall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-02-05 22:26:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1834396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/relenafanel/pseuds/relenafanel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’ll see you around, Steve,” Bucky answers with a smirk, moving away from the counter with a wink.</p><p> </p><p>Steve watches him go.  Bucky’s wearing a pair of skinny jeans coated in something to give the appearance of leather.  It’s impossible to <i>not</i> watch him go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's a bittersweet ending (if you know what I mean)

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [a tumblr prompt for](http://fuckyousebstan.tumblr.com/post/89509567878/ok-if-you-are-still-taking-prompts-i-just-got-off-of) _an au with sales associate steve and customer bucky who keeps on coming in and buying things he doesn't need so he can see steve, and/or he asks for steve's opinion on every single piece of clothing he tries on :)_ thanks sophielostandfound.

Working in the mall is rough, but it does have advantages.  Small things, like store discounts, easily accessible bus routes, and the hot guy who works at Hot Topic. Steve sees him sometimes, sitting on the bench outside the small art-store Steve works in.  His area of the mall has low foot traffic, all the stores catering to local niche markets.  It’s where people who want to get away go; it’s not quite a secret, as anyone with common sense can figure out not to sit on a bench in front of Target if you want to be alone, but there aren’t a lot of regulars, either.

 

Except for the people looking for a semi-private bathroom.  Steve, unfortunately, knows the regularity of half the full-time employees in the mall.

 

The guy from Hot Topic shows up mid-afternoon one day, scowling at his phone with his elbows braced heavily on his knees.  His heavy black boots are on the ground so firmly, it looks like he’s attempting to take root.  Steve watches, doodling in a small sketchbook, as Hot Topic Dude takes his fifteen minutes to pull himself back together, the hunch of his shoulders slowly relaxing, his head coming up from his hands until he can lift it high, and his brow smoothing out until he’s no longer looking murderous.  The guy stretches his neck, working the kinks out, and gets up.

 

It seems like their eyes meet, for a second, impossibly over the displays of painting supplies.

 

Steve watches him walk away, and he wonders what upset him.  Was it a customer?  Something at home?  Girlfriend?  Boyfriend? Maybe just a bunch of things cumulating into a boiling point?  He sometimes makes stories up in his head about people he sees to alleviate his own boredom, but he leaves it at idle curiosity for this guy.

 

~

 

Sometimes, Steve will see the guy sitting with a group of friends when he swings by the food court before his shift to pick up lunch.  He’s the only person covering a six hour shift.  He doesn’t get breaks so much as he gets to do whatever he wants whenever the store is empty, so long as he doesn’t leave it unsupervised.  If he doesn’t bring food with him, he doesn’t eat.

 

He gets a lot of drawing practice in with various tester pens and pencils, plays a lot of flappy bird.  The store is almost always empty during his shift.

 

In the food court, Hot Topic Dude never looks particularly happy or invested in the conversation with his coworkers, but then no one who works at Hot Topic ever does.

 

He comes into Steve’s store a few days after the afternoon on the bench, his head bowed as he browses through the pencil selection.  Steve watches with interest, taking in the shine of his brown hair, clearly the original colour, and the way the light gleams on the metal cuff he’s wearing on his left wrist.  Up close the guy is startlingly pretty, and Steve doesn’t know why he’s surprised if the guy already caught his eye from a distance.

 

It hadn’t been the guy’s looks that had held Steve’s attention the first time.  It had been the way he helped a pregnant woman carrying a toddler with her tray of food before continuing on to another table.  Steve notices small kindnesses, which means he’s noticed the guy from Hot Topic a few times, enough to know that he doesn’t deserve to retreat to the bench outside of Steve’s store and hunch over like he’s trying to protect himself from the world.

 

Steve doesn’t know what to say when the guy steps up to the cash with a single pencil.  The guy’s eyes are lined in eyeliner, and his fingers are long and dexterous as he spins the pencil a few times before handing it over.  Despite his obvious comfort handling one, Steve doesn’t have the impression that the man is an artist.

 

He still doesn’t know what to say, so he says what comes naturally.  “That’ll be $1.46. Do you want a bag?”

 

Maybe Steve should say what comes unnaturally next time.  Forced conversation would probably be better than that.

 

“Sure,” the guy answers, leaning against the counter.  “You drawing that?” he asks, nodding at the sketch Steve had forgotten about the moment he sauntered into the store, all lean, long lines and with his hands shoved casually into his pockets.

 

“Yeah,” Steve replies, counting change.  He shrugs.  “I’m still having trouble with anatomy in motion.”

 

The guy hums, turning the book around so he can take a closer look.  Steve wants to wince at the anatomy issues he can see now that the image isn’t right-side-up, but from the way the guy’s eyes light up, he doesn’t see the same things Steve does.  “Wow.  You’re real good.  I’m Bucky.”

 

“Steve,” he offers in return, resisting the urge to pull his sketchbook back as Bucky gives it another glance, shaking his head slightly with a stunned expression.  It inflates Steve’s ego a little, how obviously enraptured Bucky is by the sketch.

 

“I’ll see you around, Steve,” Bucky answers with a smirk, moving away from the counter with a wink.

 

Steve watches him go.  Bucky’s wearing a pair of skinny jeans coated in something to give the appearance of leather.  It’s impossible to _not_ watch him go, talking about anatomy in motion.

 

Steve knows that even with the live-model and days, weeks, months, years of practice, he could never capture Bucky’s complicated grace.

 

~

 

Bucky comes in a day later and buys a sketchbook, grinning sheepishly at Steve like Steve is about to question his purchase choices.  The book itself has cheap paper, not something Steve likes to draw on, but he’s not going to be a snob about these things.

 

They chat a little bit, and Steve’s favourite part shouldn’t be watching Bucky leave, but it is.  His fingers are already working over the paper of his sketchbook, trying to get the lines of him down before Bucky is completely gone from his memory.

 

~

 

“Steve! Hey!”

 

Sometimes Bucky will call Steve over to his table in the food court, offer him a fry and grin up at him.  It should feel like friendship but it feels a little bit like dating, the way Steve stands there and looks down at Bucky, smiling as Bucky tells him to have a good day at work and not to be late.

 

~

 

Other times, Bucky will sit on the bench outside of the art store, drawing in his book and giving Steve sly smiles.  He’ll look pointedly at his watch whenever someone emerges from the bathroom, because Bucky is a little shit, and Steve will have to duck into the back he’s laughing so hard.

 

Bucky looks relaxed, these days.  He comes into the store in his last few minutes, sketchbook tucked beneath his arm.  Steve regrets him leaving on days where he hardly gets a chance to stay.

 

The view is still really good.

 

~

 

Steve doesn’t shop at Hot Topic, but his friends are hosting a themed party and he’s under strict orders to wear something (and he quotes) _rock and roll_.  He thinks of Bucky’s jeans and figures that’s about as rock and roll as he’s going to get.  Bucky’s not in the store, and he’s grateful, though he recognizes some of Bucky’s coworkers from the few times Bucky lured him over to chat during his lunch break.

 

So Steve’s standing in front of the three sided mirror, trying to rein in how awkward he feels in the pants. He looks pretty awkward too.  They’re really, really tight… surprisingly tight around his calves and thighs. Maybe he’s wearing them too high?  He tries wriggling them down slightly to see if that helps.  He’s standing in his undershirt trying to get a good view of his ass to see if it compares with Bucky’s in any way – he’s pretty sure it won’t, nothing can compare to Bucky’s ass – tugging at the belt loops, when Bucky himself walks in.

 

“Hey Steve, Cora said you were… Jesus fucking Christ,” Bucky swears, eyes wide as he takes in Steve.  He looks like someone has slammed him over the head with a box of those really strange platform shoes Steve had seen in the window.   “Fuck,” Bucky says again for good measure.

 

“James!” his manager chides, sticking her head in the changing room, and Steve’s mortification is complete.  “Don’t make me write you up for swe… fuck.  Yeah.  Ok.  Just, not in the changing room.  That’s a lot of paper work.”

 

“What the hell?” Bucky hisses once she leaves, he’s not looking directly at Steve, his eyes focused on the reflection in the mirror.  He dabs at his face dramatically.  “Is my brain leaking out my nose?”

 

“Don’t be an asshole,” Steve mutters.  “I have to go to a party.  It’s themed.”

 

“Is the theme getting laid?”

 

Steve clamps his mouth shut and gives Bucky a stern expression.  “Of course not.  These pants won’t help with that.  They fit wrong, and everyone is going to be able to tell.”

 

“Ok, grandpa,” Bucky answers with a fond roll of his eyes.  “Maybe in a world where you still wear your khakis up to your armpits.”

 

Which Steve does not do, thank you very much Bucky.  Asshole.

 

“But in 2014 those pants.  They’re.”  Bucky scowls at him, clearly annoyed.  “Just buy them,” he says, pushing Steve back into his changing room.  “They’re the right kind of tight _everywhere_.  God.”

 

~

 

Bucky has a very distinctive walk.  It’s how Steve recognizes him when he comes into the store fifteen minutes before closing with his hood up and a pair of sunglasses on.  Bucky walks like he’s ambling, even when he’s in a hurry. 

 

His lips quirk when he sees Steve smiling at him.

 

“I can’t draw,” Bucky says, throwing his sketchbook on the counter in front of Steve.

 

“Isn’t today your day off?” Steve asks, reaching for the book.  “I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think.  Everyone thinks that…”

 

It is that bad.  Bucky draws stick figures, stick figures that have no sense of proportion or perspective.

 

“I don’t…” Steve breaks off, doing his best to keep a blank expression at the second page.  It’s full of drawings of him, and he only knows that because Bucky has labelled each with the name ‘Steve’ and an arrow.  “Ok.”

 

“I don’t like customer service,” Bucky explains.  “Some days I just need to not talk to people, but I like looking at you, and you always made drawing seem like a good prop.  You wouldn’t even notice when I was watching you draw, sometimes, so intent on it so long as no one stepped foot in the store, and it looked peaceful.  Turns out I’m shit at it,” he shrugs, lips quirked.  “I realized the peacefulness was just you.  I was sitting at home, in the quiet, and I wanted to know how your party went, whether anyone helped peel you out of those jeans the way I wanted to.  It made me realize that sometimes I need to not talk with anyone, but I want you to be there too.  So maybe you’d like to go out with me when you get off.”

 

“Yeah,” Steve answered, feeling breathless and grinning back at Bucky.  “I would.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you're on tumblr, you should follow me! I'm in the process of working on a long-fic right now that I think you'll be interested it.
> 
> My main blog (where I talk about my writing and nerd out over fandoms): [relenafanel](http://relenafanel.tumblr.com/)  
> My side blog (where all the Sebastian Stan/Marvel/Chris Evans overflow goes): [fuckyousebstan](http://fuckyousebstan.tumblr.com/)


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